


My beloved

by Morethancupcake



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel in the Bunker, Demon Dean Winchester, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mark of Cain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:23:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morethancupcake/pseuds/Morethancupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's human now, he needs to learn to fight, like we had, Sam had said. Castiel once had whispered I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me, tracing words from old paper. Castiel wasn't a warrior anymore. He was a son of God, he was innocent and good."</p><p>A simple salt and burn, except nothing is ever simple. But Dean will always protect the angel from the Thing in the shadow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My beloved

Just a simple salt and burn, Sam had said.

It could be good for Cas, give him purpose, Sam had said. 

He's human now, he needs to learn to fight, like we had, Sam had said.

Castiel once had whispered I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me, tracing words from old paper. 

Castiel wasn't a warrior anymore. He was a son of God, he was innocent and good. Dean had tried to shut down the fire in his chest, had tried not to listen to the part of his heart screaming at him for putting Castiel in danger.

Let the angel burn, had said the voice in the dark, and Dean had closed his eyes. Even after years in Hell, he knew there were unspeakable things in the shadow, crawling and laughing, and he was still scared. The mark made him easier to see.

Dean had packed for both of them, keeping Castiel close to him. The thing in the dark would need to take him first.

 

A little girl had been killed, and it was just the kind of job he hated. He could deal with demon, and ghosts, but what kind of beast could take a little girl's life ? Not even six years old, on the picture in the paper. Still wearing pigtails, front tooth missing. 

It was too disgusting to think about alcohol. 

Since the murder, the police had been lost, not knowing where to search for. Small town, everyone knew the parents. Dean could feel the stares on them, people wondering if they were really helping, or just buzzards sniffing the dried blood. The murders had started after the trial, a joke in the face of law. The poor guy wasn't even here the night of the murder, but the little town needed someone to pay. 

First, it had been the judge.

Then the priest.

The mayor. 

A teacher.

 

Sam had theories about awful stuff, things Dean didn't want to hear about, deal about. You could give him vampires and demons any day. The men capable of things like this were reasons he lost faith in the pit. The reason the mark would burn at night, the laughs in the shadow making him sweat.

Castiel's eyes were sad. The people in town were all drawn to the fake FBI agent, his blue eyes making them cry and talk about their fears, their hopes. The need for them to clean the town.

Sam was thinking like a lawyer, Castiel like a priest.

Dean just wanted blood.

 

At the first mention of witch, his lips had curled and he had almost felt the burn of a soul on his tongue. God, did he hate them. Tracking the bitch had been too easy. And then it had been just a damn shame.

The mother, playing revenge. 

The voice in the dark was tempting him, telling him ways to make it bloody, and amazing. Castiel had looked so tired, so sad, Dean had growled to the thing to just leave. him. be. 

Let the angel burn, it had hissed back. Let him burn for once and for all, and taste the remnant of his grace inside of you.

Sam had been at church, tracking the little girl's favorite teddy bear, and how fucking sad and pathetic was that. He could see the mother, kneeling on the kitchen floor crying, weakened by Castiel's spell. He could see the ghost, the crying little creature screaming at her mother, trapped by his spell. 

Only Castiel could hear her. Innocent souls couldn't be heard by demons and witches, anymore.

Tell me what she's saying. 

Don't answer, Cas. Sam will be done soon.

Tell me what she's saying.

She needs you to stop. She needs you to stop and let her go. She needs you to be happy.

 

Fire. Screams. Smoke.

 

The noises in the dark suddenly rabbid and terrifying. Some things weren't supposed to be, even in Hell. Some things were waiting in the dark. And they could see Dean.

 

The drive home had been silent, the heavy tap of rain taking all the space between them. The bunker was cold and intimidating, almost. Many rooms. Many dark corners. Dean had been so set on driving it away, putting music, and light, and family against the voice, he hadn't realized Castiel was not here. Not until dinner, when Sam had asked him about the angel, and Dean had felt a cold sweat running down his spine.

Not him. Not him. Never him. 

Castiel had been sitting under the rain, just out of the Impala. His clothes drenched, his fingers covered in mud.

Let him burn, let him free. Let him feel the fire of the mark.

Dean had fought the voice with his arms around him, holding him close and taking him back. Right where he belonged. To him. Always.

Taking him to his room, getting rid of the clothes, the grim. Letting them be, ony for a moment. What happened in this room, between them, was sacred. No shadow here. No voices. Castiel's naked body curled into his, Castiel's tears burning his soul. 

"I lied." 

Dean kissed his forehead, like a saint to a child. The Righteous Man. For Castiel, he could be.

"I lied, Dean. She was asking for revenge. She was asking for blood. She didn't care about her mother's pain, about the suffering. All she wanted..." 

The angel was sobbing, and Dean felt tears in his eyes, because Cas was not human, would never be human. Castiel, who smiled to homeless men and gave away his food. Who softly spoke to the bees and kissed Dean's temples when he pretended to sleep. Castiel had been a warrior of God, but God has been gone for too long. Dean understood, now, why the angels had wanted them dead. He knew what was waiting in the dark. He knew it was thriving. Castiel couldn't know. 

Castiel was love, and hope. And Dean would kill to preserve him, for as long as possible. Castiel was the last piece of heaven in a world where creatures like him were roaming free.

"It's ok, Cas. It's ok."

"I lied to this woman. I used to think children were made of our Father's love, and now, now..."

"It'll be okay Cas." The angel shivering in the demons arms, and Dean knew he would protect him for the rest of his life, probably more. Castiel had once raised him from perdition. He would spend the rest of eternity shielding him from the dark. "You did well. She will heal, and be happy. You saved her, my love."

Castiel's eyes full of tears, Dean drinking them all. 

On the other side of the door, Dean could hear the fallen titans lurking, their nails raking on the floor. On the other side, he could feel the pull, and he terror.

Safe in his arms, the angel kissed him and brought light.

 

My beloved spoke, and said unto me: 'Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.'

**Author's Note:**

> Here on tumblr http://archiveofourown.org/works/3172502 
> 
> As usual, comments, kudos and likes are hugs to the soul.


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